A cancer journey – scan result days make me nervous


So last week Rick had his three-month scans which included MRI and CT scans and the usual bloodletting. Scan day is emotionally draining and exhausting. Reminders everywhere of how far we have come … and we don’t want to go backwards.

Yep … and it never fails. Despite the anxiety, we chuckle every time we spend the day at MD Anderson. There are new things to learn. This time the lab where Rick has bloodwork in the Mays Building went all techie. We used to fill out a slip of paper with pertinent patient information before dropping it in a little plastic basket and wait to be called up to the desk. The paper slips have been replaced with electronics. Progress? Yesterday, when we arrived at check-in to see Dr. Campbell, all the iPads, except one, were out-of-order. Rick’s clinic went all techie a while ago. Not complaining mind you! I can relate! Heck … after replacing my sim card and getting a new iPhone, I am still dropping calls.

So to put life for us in perspective … since his diagnosis of Stage IV Kidney Cancer just over two years ago … Rick and I have welcomed two grandbabies. Ben, 18-months-old now, was born down the street in the medical center on one of Rick’s long immunotherapy infusion days. And little Zelie was born two weeks ago to our son and lovely daughter-in-law, Kate. Even Jacob has been deeply involved in Rick’s journey. Now four, Jacob came to wish his Pop-Pop good luck two years ago on the day Rick’s tumor/left kidney was removed. Jacob also walked the MD Anderson’s Boot Walk with us this past November while Baby Ben slept in his stroller. You don’t have to tell me we are blessed.

So just how did it go yesterday with lab results? Our visit with Dr. Campbell, our oncologist, and his lovely PA, Simi, was all we had prayed for. MRI … stable. CT … stable. Rick is just over a year from getting kicked off the clinical trial and receiving no cancer treatment. He still itches all the time, mostly from the inside, which tells us the immunotherapy is still working.

I asked Dr. Campbell how patients who are on Rick’s clinical trial are doing because I want to know. My editor, the lovely Cynthia, has trained me well. I had my steno pad all ready for details and statistics. Dr. Campbell indicated 55% of those on Rick’s immunotherapy clinical trial drug ARM of Bevacizumab and Nivolumab are having positive results. In the coming months, the trial will end and it will be number crunching time. I will be there with pen in hand to probe for any updates. It is my hope these two drugs will be the answer for all Clear Cell Kidney Cancer patients … not just for the 55% with positive results. That is probably just 50 people.

And now for the really great news … we don’t go back for FOUR months!!!! Can I get an amen?

And then there were four


The following “You Gotta Laugh” column … a tribute to my sister … appeared this week in The Tribune Newspaper. I have reposted below … and provided a link to their website! Note you can sign up for free with a username and password for their site.

Tribune website

Did I ever mention I am the oldest of five? My sister, Mary, is just 19 months younger. During our growing-up years, Mary and I had lots of adventures together and shared a room until we hit our teenage years. Today it seems a lifetime ago.

My favorite photograph of my sister is one that resides on a shelf in my sewing room. In the black and white pic, Mary is sitting confidently atop a furry-maned Shetland pony. I feel certain she was about three years old. The cutie pie has short blond hair and round face with a smile that says let’s get this party started!

My mom tells the story how one day a man with a pony and a camera walked around our neighborhood offering to photograph children. He even came prepared with a cowboy hat and chaps for the kids to don. The chaps had a lasso and the initials “RR” embroidered inside the lasso loop on the lower leg. I like to think the initials stood for Roy Rogers and not the dude with the camera.

Actually, Mary and I both had our photos made that day. The only difference is the way we held our cowboy hat with our right hand up in the air. Today Mary and I sit side-by-side frozen in time in a double frame.

Then there was the time Mary lost her two front baby teeth. Not a remarkable incident, except the permanent ones were taking forever to make their appearance. While most kids were singing “Santa Claus is coming to Town,” Mary proudly sang, “All I want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth” with a lisp. When her front teeth finally did appear, there was a little gap. It was just enough to squirt water through.

When we got a little older, Mary and I would escape the house on Saturday for the local movie theatre leaving our little brothers and sister in the dust. Back in the Stone Age, a movie ticket cost 35 cents and bought two movies, cartoons and previews. For ticket money, we scoured the neighborhood ditches for glass soda pop bottles. At two cents deposit a pop, it didn’t take long to hit our goal. A quick trip to the drug store for candy and our mom didn’t see us for hours.

It didn’t matter what kid-friendly movies were playing. We watched them all. I do recall one that scared the bejeebers out of both of us. It was an Edgar Allen Poe inspired flick entitled “The Mask of the Red Death” starring Vincent Price. Imagine trying to crawl under the seats as the tension builds on the screen. We crouched on the sticky concrete floor waiting for the scary part to be over. It never happened. I think we lasted 30 minutes before running toward the exit and all the way home.

Fast forward a bunch of years. Mary and I married our respective sweethearts six months apart. We even lived a short distance away from each other for a time. I remember the day Rick and I got the call in the middle of the night to drive Mary to the hospital. She was in labor with her first child, Christy. Since her husband was a fireman stationed downtown, Rick and I were the designated backup drivers.

When we arrived to pick Mary up, I will never forget finding my sister calmly watering her plants, feeding the fish and straightening up the kitchen. She obviously was not in a hurry … but we were. After finally getting her loaded in the passenger seat of our little Toyota Corolla, Rick sped toward downtown where Greg would be waiting at the hospital’s front door. Each time my sister made a peep, Rick would start to sweat. We were not trained in labor and delivery. Then Mary let out a wail at a red light.

“Geez, it’s three in the morning. There is absolutely no traffic. Do you think it would be OK to just go through the red lights?” Rick stuttered.

Not even waiting for a response, he put the pedal to the metal and we arrived 20 minutes later at the hospital to a waiting Greg.

My sister, Mary, died the day after Easter of Ovarian cancer. The disease took her just seven months after diagnosis. She was 62 years young.

A cancer journey – coming off the clinical trial

Yesterday, Rick did his usual early morning bloodletting in anticipation of perhaps another immunotherapy infusion of nivolumnab. It was not to be. Rick’s lipase was 3,082 (normal is between 23 and 300) and during the past two weeks he has felt it. So … Rick is officially off the clinical trial. The nivolumnab is not being kind to his pancreas and essentially the important organ has made it perfectly clear Rick’s body has had enough … for now.

From a cancer perspective, the drug has done amazing things and we are over the moon about his progress. In February of 2016, thoughts were creeping into our minds a funeral was on the horizon. We were so close to the edge of the cliff. Today, Rick and I are making travel plans for adventures, grandson Baby Ben’s baptism, grandson Jacob’s third birthday, our son Ricky’s graduation with a Master’s (party time!) and so much more. Did I mention Rick and I will celebrate 45 years of marriage in May? I know … 2017 is going to be a great year.

Another round of steroids was prescribed … and amazingly … today Rick is feeling better.

So what happened in 2016? We did some really hard work at MD Anderson Cancer Hospital in 2016. Along with tons of prayers, love and support, some incredible healing happened. Some time this year I want to write about all the people that helped us with our special needs daughter, Mimi. An important part of the story I have left out.

I calculate Rick had at least 40 tests (most of them bloodwork, scans, etc.), 34 physician visits, one huge surgery with a 5-day stay to remove his left kidney, three initial immunotherapy drug infusions of nivolumnab and bevacizumab, 11 immunotherapy infusions of nivolumnab after surgery, and three missed infusions due to high lipase levels. What can I say … Rick is a “rock star.” Took him ten months to kick nearly all those tumors down the road and into a ditch.

2017 is going to be a little different. We go back to see Dr. Campbell, Rick’s oncologist, next week to discuss the plan and make sure his pancreas has recovered. It appears Rick will be put on an oral medication that cuts off the blood supply to the remaining tumors. Scans will still occur every three months … and not so many visits to MDA. Can I hear an “amen?”

A cancer journey with immunotherapy – infusion #10 and #11


In mid-November, Rick had his 10th maintenance infusion of Nivolumab at MD Anderson. Of course, the day is a bit more involved than just heading up to the 8th floor. During our appointment with our awesome oncologist, Dr. Campbell, we talked about Rick’s bloodwork. All looked good … except his pancreas, or lipase, level inched just over the line to 326. Something to watch … but we got the “Mother May I” to head to infusion floor.

Since we have already spent a fair amount of time over the past few months on the 8th floor, we have got to know a nurse that really knows her way around putting in an IV. She seems to be able to get that sucker placed with a minimum of “ouches” and little to no bruising. So of course, now we request the amazing Elizabeth! I think we were headed out the door for home by 2 or 2:30 p.m. A most excellent day!

Then last week, on December 1st, we went to MDA for Rick’s 11th infusion. Again, bloodwork looked great … except lipase had nearly doubled to 710 … not as high as after his kidney surgery. But not good. But the dude is feeling just fine. Yep … we got sent home anyway. The old “do no harm” was invoked and we certainly gotta respect that. We don’t have to like it though. I think we sat in the waiting room for ten or so minutes digesting what just happened. I didn’t cry. But we were both quiet. Then hubby placed a call to our oldest. Katie had Baby Ben a couple of weeks before and lives not far. So instead of an infusion … we opted for holding our new second grandson tight for just a few hours before heading north! It was also a most excellent day!

A cancer journey with immunotherapy – infusion #7 sweet spot and a return trip!


Last week we had a major milestone with “the schedule” at MD Anderson. We discovered our sweet spot after lots of 12-hour “infusion” days. Basic schedule now is bloodletting at 6:30 in the am, meet with clinical trial nurse and oncologist at 8:30, and then a lovely infusion before and during lunch! No more grumpy bug faces on our part. I think we got this! Maintenance infusion #7 was a like a gentle fall breeze and we got home about 2 pm.

The most interesting part of the day was meeting with one of Dr. Campbell’s fellows! I learned our awesome oncologist, Dr. Campbell, gets a new one each month. I wish I wrote down his name. The young man was chatty … I love that … and has a PHD in immunology. He told us Rick had kidney cancer long before the severe symptoms appeared that lead us on the quest to figure out what was wrong. He called those scary symptoms the “tipping point.” I learned once you get to that point it is imperative to quickly get a correct diagnosis and start treatment. We also learned that Rick’s clinical trial for clear cell kidney cancer now has all their sixty patients. Rick was number 36. No more slots are available. So far Rick is still the rock star performing the best in this particular immunotherapy trial. Sixteen and one-half months to go!

The day after the infusion we took a trip … back to Washington, DC … to hang for a few days with our son and lovely daughter-in-law. We were there last in March to fulfill a promise and witness Kate’s confirmation into the Catholic Church. That trip was also after Rick’s very first infusion after being approved for the clinical trial. We went back and forth on the teeter totter about whether we should go. Rick was in lots of pain and nauseous most of the time. It was Rick’s decision to go for it … and we made it happen. I remember pushing him through the airports in a wheelchair. Back then he didn’t walk much in D.C. He was mostly there in spirit.

What a difference seven months make. This time we stayed up late, walked our feet off, got up and personal with lots of Washington D.C.’s monuments, went on an awesome history tour (History Nerds) of the Gettysburg battlefield, played trivia with Ricky’s cadets in a bar, toured the Holocaust Memorial Museum, and so much more. I think I got my hubby and travel buddy back!

My favorite day was the Gettysburg battlefield tour in Pennsylvania. Ricky and the lovely Kate had purchased the tour for hubby’s birthday present in September. I had no idea Gettysburg was only a ninety minutes drive from Washington, D.C. Al Condit was our amazing tour guide on the History Nerds tour bus which lasted just over two hours. The comfortable bus held about a dozen people. Al knows his Gettysburg history and provided non-stop fascinating commentary and occasional videos on the famous three-day battle. We got out of the bus a couple of times … once on the Confederate side and once on the Union side at Little Round Top. While there are many ways to experience Gettysburg … I totally recommend the History Nerd tour. Just saying!

I spy Jacob!


Our grandson, Jacob, loves to poke around my sewing room. I make it a point before he is due to arrive to lock up anything remotely interesting and dangerous to a two-year-old like pins, rotary cutters and scissors. Earlier this year he got a peek at the “I Spy” quilt I made for a charity event. Little did Jacob know I was working on one for him also!

The pattern is again from Missouri Star Quilt Company and so is the novelty layer cake fabric of ten-inch squares. With Jacob’s quilt, I added a couple of his favorite Minion fabric “jars.” I also used a mottled black fabric for the background which I love over the flat-looking black fabric on the charity quilt.

After finally getting the quilt top finished, I asked Jacob to pick a binding fabric. The charity quilt binding was black and totally worked but I wanted to try something different. Jacob’s choices were ladybugs or zebra print. Obviously, ladybugs won! The ladybug fabric is by Charley Harper.

The awesome Kim Norton, at A Busy Bobbin, quilted with an all-over digital pantograph design called Circle Swirls using a multi-colored King Tut thread (921 Cleopatra). I absolutely love collaborating with Kim! The adorable Tracy at Personalize It embroidered the quilt label for the back.

A cancer journey – knocking the dominos down one at a time

Infusion time!
Each early morning visit to MD Anderson reminds me of setting up a bunch of dominos on their short edges in interesting configurations. The hope is after touching the first one, the dominos will all fall, one right after the other, so we can hurry and get back on the HOV toward home before the sun sets. We still haven’t gotten used to the fact … it is probably not ever going to happen. It is why we take two cars for infusion day. That way I can be sure to get home in time for Mimi’s bus.

Maintenance infusion number three happened on August 11, and started with the usual bloodletting. Step two is wait to chat with clinical trial nurse to go over symptoms and blood work. We have always been told the wait is two hours to get back test results. So of course we left the 7th floor and headed down to Cool Beans for coffee and hot chocolate. We found a quiet corner table and Rick set up his phone with our favorite playlist for some chill time.

We headed back to the 7th floor only to find out they were looking for us an hour before to get started chatting early with the clinical trial lady. So much for speeding things up on our part. We won’t do that again. Good news … Rick’s lipase number continues to improve. He is back at the top of the normal range. We chatted with the PA, the lovely Simi, and Dr. Campbell paid us a visit. Turns out he read my blog. It seems I remind him of his mother, who is also a quilter and, I think, teaches English Literature. Who knew? Step three … we headed to the eighth floor where the infusion would happen. We check-in and then go to lunch before heading back up to wait some more. This part of the day is always where Rick and I turn into grumpy bugs because of all the waiting … sometimes three or four hours just to get sent back into the room for the infusion. It is painful. I know lots happens behind the scene until the infusion finally goes drip, drip, drip for an hour. Then wait another hour afterward, for side effects, and finally head for home … in time for dinner.

Note to self … always go to infusion therapy to get IV started. We forgot this time. Some of the ladies in charge of the actual infusions don’t do that part very well. It is painful to watch. I can imagine how Rick felt.

Fast forward to yesterday and maintenance infusion number four! It was pretty much rinse, wash and a repeat of the last one. Only this time MD Anderson had installed IPads on the wall near the check-in desks. The concept sounded like it might work, but I think they need to tweak that one a little. After IPad check-in, you sit down and wait to be called on your cellphone to head toward the check-in desk to get your mandatory MDA “wristband.” The IPad also forgot to inform the MDA peeps that only do “vital signs” that Rick was in the building.

Bottom line … this time we didn’t leave the 7th floor for Cool Beans. Well … actually I left and came back with coffee and hot chocolate. Rick’s lipase is still dropping. It is obvious now the high level had something to do with his kidney removal surgery. Rick had his IV put in by Infusion Therapy peeps. He didn’t get a good one. She stabbed him twice before Rick requested someone else. Then finally the infusion after a long four-hour wait. Rick made it home again in time for dinner.

To mark our continued progress, we are now collecting the wrist bands we cut off at the end of infusion day to visualize how far we have come until the trial finishes in March of 2018. I wish we had started this at the beginning. We would probably have 40 wrist bands by now with all the testing and other doctor visits.

In September, we have two more maintenance infusions, MRI and CT scans. It will be interesting to see if things continue to shrink.

So the dominos … they continue to fall. Maybe not always in the orderly way we want them to. Lord, I think we need to add patience to our list. We continue to feel so blessed and thankful for Rick’s return to good health.

A cancer journey – struggling with the schedule

Infusion time!

Two weeks ago, Rick had his first of many “maintenance” immunotherapy infusions of Nivolumab for the clinical trial he is on for his clear cell kidney cancer. The hope is the drug will re-train his “T” cells to recognize and destroy any remaining cancer cells.

Fast-forward to yesterday and we were hopeful to get the go-ahead for “maintenance” infusion number 2. We gotta do this every two weeks for about 20 more months … not to mention scans every few months. It is going to be a very long haul … but I believe the worst is behind us. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Rick had a kidney/tumor removed two months ago. Seems a little surreal. Rick has been back at work for the last few weeks and was finally cleared to climb on all that fun metal stuff at the plant.

It is why Rick and I have been huddling with the calendar trying to figure out how to integrate these MDA visits into our lives with work and family. The whole infusion thing reminds me of baking cookies. The infusion recipe has a specific order and involves several ingredients starting with blood work. Actually, Rick and I lovingly call it an old-fashioned bloodletting because they take over a dozen vials of blood. That is done the day before, or at the very least two hours prior to meeting with the clinical trial research peeps. She asks bunches of questions to see how Rick is doing and records the answers on a computer. I don’t think she found a spot to record my answer, “Rick has his sense of humor back!”

Next ingredient … we stir in a meeting with the PA, the lovely Simi, and sometimes Dr. Campbell, the oncologist. If all the blood work looks fine, we head to another floor to bake at 350 degrees or until done. Actually, that is where we go for the actual infusion. Like waiting for bread to rise, that part involves waiting around for a couple of hours for whatever goes on behind the scene and finally the infusion. Why am I telling you all this? Because these infusions days can easily burn a whole workday.

So Rick and I tried an experiment this week with the schedule. Rick drove to MDA from work late in the day on Wednesday for his blood work. On Thursday, Rick and I met with the clinical trial “team” in the early afternoon and was approved for his infusion. We figured it would be way easier to make up a few hours at work then a whole day. Good news … his lipase numbers had dropped again. Rick was now so close to the absolute top of the normal range. Actually, there was a few minutes when it looked like we might be sent home again. Imagine throwing out a perfectly good batch of unbaked cookie batter. It felt like that!

I left MDA at 3:30 pm to head back to meet Mimi and her bus. Rick finally pulled up into the driveway after 7 pm. I could tell by the look on his face this wasn’t going to work and he had a “Plan B” in mind. I have a call into Dr. Campbell’s awesome scheduler, Lauren. Hopefully, she can work some magic for when we head back down to MDA in two weeks for “maintenance” infusion number 3.

A cancer journey – did they let us back on the freeway?

Infusion time!
When last we left off, Rick experienced, what we hoped was a little detour in his cancer journey. It was the first, and I am certain, it won’t be the last. I know that now. It is a very humbling experience to hear you may not be able to continue on your clinical trial … all because of a blood test result. A test on Rick’s pancreas two weeks ago reported his lipase level at 1602, with the standard range between 23 and 300. Not good. It is why we were sent home two weeks ago instead of receiving his very first “maintenance” infusion and put on “evaluation” status in the clinical trial.

We were to await an appointment with a GI doctor to rule out pancreatitis. That last-minute appointment finally happened yesterday. We met with Dr. T. That is what they call her as her name is not to be easily pronounced! After a long and thoughtful consultation, looking over labs and scans, it was determined that Rick did not have pancreatitis. Dr. T also asked me how Rick was doing. I told her this guy is back at work, working out with light weights, eating everything in the house that is not tied down and has his sense of humor back. Yup … it was her opinion the lipase elevation is likely due to the infusion drugs. But would they return to normal?

Today we left the house at 7 am for blood work at 8 bells. Two hours later we met with the clinical trial nurse and Dr. Campbell’s PA. If the blood work showed a decrease on the lipase test, Rick would have an immunotherapy infusion. Unfortunately, the lab didn’t perform the lipase test. A simple snafu for sure which increased the tension. Back down to the lab we went! We got Tazz to draw blood. He has a Looney Tune’s Tasmanian Devil on his scrubs. Another two-hour wait. We cruised to lunch at a restaurant in the Rotary House. The sit-down restaurant has a nice lunch buffet which was worth the stroll from the Mays Building.

At 12:45 my cell phone rang. Dr. Campbell told me the lipase declined 1200 points and Rick could run over to the Main Building for his infusion. Just like that! A simple phone call and we were allowed back on the freeway. But not too fast! More waiting and it was finally around 3:30 when the immunotherapy drug started dripping. During “maintenance” there is only one drug involved. Cuts the actual infusion time down to about an hour instead of three. Immunotherapy should continue every other week for the next 20 months … if there are no detours.

So I call 3:30 pm the witching hour when I am at MD Anderson. I gotta be out of the parking lot to head back home before Mimi’s day center bus rolls in front of our house. Thank you Lord for the HOV! So I leave Rick to finish his infusion and our awesome son-in-law, Chad, does a MD Anderson drive-by after work depositing hubby home safe and sound.

What I learned this week … life can turn on a dime many times … blood work is important and I don’t understand it all very much … except for lipase. I also learned that unexpected good things happen at our house every few days … like Michele texting me she has extra and brings a delicious dinner and her cute dog for Mimi to pet. And cards appear in our mailbox every few days. This week from the newspaper I write for, The Tribune. One card for Rick, and one for me, signed by everyone in the office with lovely little notes. Made our day when we weren’t having a very good one! And then there was a long phone call last week with Aleta … we call each other “sista” … she is actually my lovely daughter-in-law’s mother and lives far away in Michigan. It was one of those tough days and she made everything better.

And my favorite little text relay early in the day with my little sister, Gretchen! “Big day at MDA today! Maybe infusion … maybe kicked out of trial!” I texted.

“I vote for infusion,” Gretchen texts.

A cancer journey – CT scan and infusion results

Infusion drugs!
When last we hung out, Rick had just finished his third immunotherapy infusion. So for about two weeks the superman t-cells have been “cooking” on Rick’s insides. I can tell you we haven’t been twiddling all four of our thumbs this whole time. We ordered a car to be converted for transporting Mimi in her wheelchair, completed construction on a pocket door for Mimi’s room (it needed to be widened for years), and celebrated our grandson Jake’s second birthday. We are in serious love with the tyke!

Rick’s CT scan was this past Sunday … yes I said Sunday … at MD Anderson, the hospital that rarely sleeps. Our awesome daughter, Katie, took her dad for me while I hung out with our Mimi. If you have never had a CT scan, I can tell you do not feel compelled to add it to your bucket list. Not a fun way to spend your day. First you drink a large flavored drink in the waiting room. Rick chose “watery orange” this time. Yum! Then an IV is started. The rest is a mystery to me as daughters and wives have to sit and wait in the waiting room. After lots of hours, Rick came out all done and wasn’t glowing.

On Monday, we had an early morning appointment with the kidney surgeon, Dr. Karam. We pretty much knew from the beginning Rick’s left kidney (the cancer “mothership”) would be coming out. Now we would be getting a surgery date and meeting with the surgeon for the first time. Rick still wasn’t feeling well from the CT scan, so in my haste to pack crackers and nausea medication before backing out of the driveway, I neglected to bring any paper for taking notes. I just know it … someone is going to take away my Girl Scout card for not being prepared.

In the end, I wrote everything down on the back of a Kroger grocery receipt. Here is what he told us. We talked in general terms about the CT scan. No numbers or percentages. The phrase “mixed response” was thrown out. Surgery is Tuesday, May 24. Actual surgery takes about three hours, not including all the stuff happening on the front and back end. Hospital stay is two to three days. Recovery … about two weeks but still not running sprints. Interesting factoid about MD Anderson … they give you a surgery time the day before the surgery. The reasoning is surgeries get cancelled and then some surgeries get added so there are always lots of shuffling of the cards. Seems like it could work for the benefit of patients. I’ll let you know how well it works.

Today we had an appointment with Rick’s oncologist, Dr. Campbell. This is the visit I was most interested in as we’d get information on how the infusion drugs have been working. His first CT scan was in mid-February right before he was diagnosed. This was an important visit!

We learned that in just over two months, the tumor in his chest is reduced by forty percent. OK … double digits! The tumors in the lungs are clear. That means they can’t see them. Can I get an “amen?” The tumor in the liver is reduced by twenty-five percent. We were pleased with the number! The tumors in three bone areas “lit up” as unchanged, but it was explained that the CT scan is not a really good indicator with the bone. We will get further on down the road and perhaps at some point do a bone scan and get a better feel on those areas. The kidney tumor has not changed in size but doesn’t look the same. He was not concerned about this since it was coming out. Rick’s mission for the next four weeks is to get in shape for the surgery. Dr. Campbell suggested a personal trainer. He also mentioned yoga. Yeah … like that is going to happen. I don’t expect the Incredible Hulk in just four weeks but then again … I know an awesome personal trainer!

Bottom line … the tumors are responding to the immunotherapy infusion drugs. Clearly, the power of prayer and immunotherapy is working!